The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

I wanted to ride the wave of enthusiasm coming off Oceanside for as long as possible, but Recovery Week led straight into a head cold, which then led right into the news of our upcoming relocation to Colorado, and training had to take a backseat as Brad & I scrambled to pack up our life in San Jose and replant it in Boulder. I had just barely gotten used to the altitude when I was already back on a plane to California, gearing up for the new edition of Vineman, the inaugural IM 70.3 Santa Rosa.

I was pretty sure I had resolved my bike issues by getting some adjustments to my cleats, but there was only one way to find out for sure.

My expectations for this race were lower since life had been so hectic leading into it, and I embraced the opportunity to race "for fun," approaching this as just another building block in my development as an athlete.

This turned out to be a good attitude to have when on Friday morning, as I was packing the car to head to my athlete homestay, I received the news that my host accommodations had fallen through, and "we have no other options for you, sorry."

"Again?!" Brad exclaimed in exasperation.

I had to laugh thinking back on the Airbnb host who had cancelled on me just two weeks before IM Santa Cruz two years ago. At the time, with all the pieces perfectly in place for my 2015 "A" race, this was a horrifying disaster. Hotels and accommodations for the flood of IM athletes and spectators always get snatched up many months in advance, and trying to find a place just two weeks before an Ironman event is near impossible. Two weeks! I was freaking out about ‘only' two weeks notice?! Ha. ... How about two hours notice?

At first I considered exchanging our rental bean for a larger SUV or van that could accommodate some sleeping bags in the back. But as it turns out, I do have relatives who live relatively close to Santa Rosa, one of whom was awakened early Friday morning with this phone call:

"Hi Garik! It's your cousin Kimberly. Would you by chance have a couch I could crash on tonight? I'll be leaving about 3am, I promise I'll try not to wake the baby ... "

And would you believe it, he said yes!

Because Goodells Rule.

But everyone knows that.

The rest of Friday was a logistical maze, negotiating the crowds in downtown Santa Rosa to check in / drop off T2 gear / get thoroughly briefed on the course, then driving 30 miles north to negotiate crowds at Lake Sonoma where the T1 bike drop off was located.

(Side note: Tri Bike Transport offered a bike shuttle service to save this last step, and in retrospect it DEFINITELY would've been worth the $40. I used their services to ship the bike back to Boulder after the race, and it was so delightfully convenient to just pass the bike off and continue on my way! I highly recommend taking advantage of this option any time it's available.)

After all that set up, the race seemed like the easy part.

Race morning was even more crowded, with the bulk of the 3,000 participants shuttled in on school buses, a glorious 45 minutes spent stuffed into bench seats made for humans with very short legs. Transition was clogged with long lines everywhere, at gear check, at the bathrooms, even just getting in and out. I found myself snaking through the crowds down the boat ramp and sliding into the water to join the hot pink caps of the pro wave just as the announcer said, "Ninety seconds to go, ladies ... " Without adequate time to get around to worrying about the race itself, I was never even nervous, and before I really knew what had hit me, I was swimming.


Posted by Kimberly 05/22/2017

After only two days in Indonesia I am in love.

Shanks ponies into the jungle

Indonesia was apparently a very popular destination for tourists before Thailand took over and began drawing people to Southeast Asia. Because of this the tourist infrastructure is there but the islands are blissfully devoid of other tourists. From Malaysia we took a local ferry and made our way overnight by bus to Bukittinggi. For whatever reason it was decided that everyone on the bus should feel like it would be a white Christmas after all and the AC was on full blast all night. Quite ironically we crossed the equator on this stretch making the equator officially the coldest part of my trip. At one point Bukittinggi may have been overrun with tourists using it as a jump off for various treks and tours or just visiting the scenic town, but these days it has settled back into its own quiet existence.

Posted by nik 12/27/2008, revised 02/08/2009

Once upon a time, a tiny ball of snow sat atop a hill. One afternoon, a wind came along and nudged the little ball over the crown of the slope. Slowly, the ball began to roll... down, down, down. As it passed over the land, it gradually picked up more and more snow to add to its constitution. With the newly added substance, the ball rolled faster yet, garnering still more matter.

Soon, the ball rolled with such power, such momentum and strength, that to try and act on the mass in a direction other than its rollin' way was... futile.

This, my friends, is why I have not managed to inform you all of the goings-on of my Life. The snowball has been rolling, rolling, rolling, and I have been running beside it, laughing with childlike glee all the way. I will not try to run uphill through the powdery fluff to tell you of what happened at that part of the slope or describe to you what this tree looked like when we flew past it. Because while I do that, the ball is still rolling, still passing other beautiful trees, still gathering more snow and continuing on its way. Thus I can only attempt to depict the here and now, and keep rolling along with Life as it flies.

Loving and living

Posted by Whitney 06/09/2011